Juju Orbits

I've come to realize that one way of dealing with the serendipity of Juju is to have a long term art project that allows for the juju spectrum to unfold and sequence itself into key elements of the design process.

To illustrate, on a recent art project I followed the basic timeline:

1. idea arose, started as narrative prose.
2. went over and edited.
3. thought about layout - roughly 30 drawings with narrative - and began breaking pages out of the text.
4. Made 30 panels - sketched out each
5. Began work on final panel - first pencil, then ink
6. scanned to computer
7. cleaned up each scan
8. Formatted to narrative pages
9. submitted to online publisher and ordered proof
10. reviewed proof, adjusted and submitted final project.

** I've highlight text according to relative wave frequencies on the EM spectrum, with Red being deepest Juju and Violet being weakest.

Depending on the level of art required at each level, Juju can be stored/spent accordingly.  Of course, it doesn't always work out so neatly.  But with overlapping tasks, juju can be pushed or pulled with greater flexibility.  For instance, measuring panels or cleaning up scans require minimal Juju, while writing narrative prose or sketching out each panel required very high levels.  These elements of the project thus circle one's juju as if in orbit.


***I came across notion of Juju as artistic energy from Kevin O'dell who tragically died of a stroke in 2022, leaving behind Sarah, the mother of his child.  Their term originally refers to the Western African spiritual traditions. But I'm not clear on exactly they were used. (I got sidetracked perusing Wikipedia as I came across highly biased and outdated sourcing.  One reference was from 1898 and used racist language "Uncivilized".)  However, I believe Kevin, Asian American and worked in environmental social justice, would have been aware of his own appropriation of the term.  When I met him he lived in a grand house with many roommates (one of them iirc was the son of Peter from Peter, Paul and Mary) and it was the kind of place you could just show up and hang out.  The living room was messy with paint supplies and Kevin would often show up to work (we were care providers at a clinic for the Traumatically Brain Injured), his shirt covered in paint.  He was a big man, dressed in boots and sometimes almost militarily baggy clothing hanging about him.  He was deeply spiritual, in the sense that he seemed always to be peering behind the veil.  He had a wicked sense of humor combined with compassion and enthusiasm.  He liked to make big meals in which he spoke of learning recipe's from his Korean mother.  His father was white and met her during the war.  He grew up on military bases and moved to Portland after graduating from Chapel Hill.

Kevin referred to his artistic ambitions as juju.  It meant the powerful force that comes into you and makes you want to create transcendent things.  I'm not sure I felt like he ever applied himself enough to make anything that interesting.  But he did often speak of the juju as fleeting force in his life.

I've come to use the term as I like the mystical/spiritual associations that give some sort of verbal language to the experience of making transcendent art.

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